


Civil Union (The Lessons Your Mother Taught You Remix)

by cptxrogers



Category: Marvel 3490
Genre: Civil War, Civil War Fix-It, F/M, Fix-It, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13409055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptxrogers/pseuds/cptxrogers
Summary: How civil war was averted on Earth 3490.





	Civil Union (The Lessons Your Mother Taught You Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neverever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Aftermath (The Way to the Truth Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363293) by [Neverever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever). 



> For the cap-im relay remix flower chain. Thanks to the prior author for the inspiration!
> 
> This relay is part of a chain; you can find the full [masterlist](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Cap_Ironman_Relay_Remix_2018/profile) on the Collection profile page.

Natasha rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension that was written throughout her posture. Her fingers dropped to her chest and drummed on her arc reactor, the way she always did when she was anxious.

Steve was upstairs getting ready to leave, and Natasha imagined him neatly folding each item of clothing as if he were packing for some fun trip they were going on. She remembered the first trip they’d taken together - a romantic night in Madripoor, or at least it had been before MODOK attacked. Still, she liked fighting back to back with Steve just as much as watching him face to face over a candlelit supper.

For a moment she wished that she still had the time gem, thrumming with eerie green light which hinted at its power. That tiny stone which hid such potential; the way that her whole body had vibrated when she had touched it and just for a moment she had imagined that she could change things, that she could fix this.

But she was a futurist, and she didn’t need a magical gem to see the future. The cracks in the Avengers, in the superhero community, in her relationship with Steve would only grow and fracture and cut every one of them to pieces. The SHRA was merely the regulatory manifestation of all the hurt and mistrust between them.

With a sigh, she put aside the repulsor boot that she had been working on and pushed her bangs out of her face. Motor oil was ingrained under her fingernails and she picked at it absently while she tried to think.

She was supposed to be the smartest woman in the world, and she had no idea how to fix the rift between her and the people she loved.

She had worked so hard to stay professional with Steve. They had their relationship, and then they had their responsibilities as heroes, and she had wanted so much to keep those separate. The problem was with registration, not with her and Steve.

She had tried to reason with him. She had shown him evidence of the harm unregistered heroes had already done. She had told him that registration was coming whether they supported it or not, and they may as well keep some control over the process. She had pointed out the importance of training for new heroes, which Steve understood better than anyone.

She had debated, and argued, and presented the information in as objective a way as possible.

And Steve hadn’t budged one iota.

She loved that about Steve, of course, his unwavering dedication to doing what he thought was right. But now that same dedication was destroying the home that they had built together. The only home where she’d ever felt like she truly belonged.

As always when she was failing, she remembered her father, cold and austere. “Stark men are made of iron,” he would tell her with a smirk whenever she failed at a task. It was his one seeming pleasure in life to at every possible moment express his disappointment that she hadn’t been born a boy.

She had spent so long trying to be strong like he was, to prove her worth. But Natasha wasn’t one of the Stark men, and she never had been. Howard’s ways had led her to isolation, misery, and disconnection.

She thought about her mother instead. Maria was always so quiet, so easy to overlook. People barely noticed her when Howard was in the room. But Natasha had known better than to underestimate her mother.

She remembered applying to MIT when she was 15. She was invited into the president’s office, where she was informed that her grades were impressive but that the president was “doubtful that she was temperamentally suited to the school.” She remembered the feeling of shame, and she remembered Howard going red in the face and yelling about how dare the school turn away a Stark, didn’t they know who he was, this family had earned their place here.

And then she remembered Maria, who had nodded and left the office without a word. Maria had gone home, gotten on the phone, and over the next week she took Natasha to meet five engineering professors at the school, where they would chat about Natasha’s designs and her experiments and her ideas for the future. When, the week after, the entire academic committee of the engineering department had recommended that she be admitted, the principal had conceded.

“Your father isn’t wrong when he says being strong is important,” Maria had explained to her. “But strength isn’t just about money and power. There is strength to be found in relationships with people too.”

At the time, Natasha had dismissed that advice as the sort of thing that people say to young women to make them play nice in a hostile world. But in the intervening years, in times of dire circumstance she found herself thinking back to it.

What if the problem was not about a debate, but about a relationship? She and Steve disagreed about the SHRA, but there was no doubt in her mind that she loved Steve and he loved her. Instead of trying to argue the policy, perhaps she should be supporting their relationship.

Did Steve even know that she never stopped loving him? Whatever disagreements they had, that would always be true. But she hadn’t told him that, hadn’t tried to comfort him. She had been so determined to prove that she was right about registration that she hadn’t wanted to show weakness by admitting how much he meant to her.

That was her father's influence, she thought with a snarl. She really ought to have listened more to her mother.

Natasha swallowed her pride and went upstairs to stand in front of the door to their bedroom. She gulped down a breath of air and leaned her head against the door. “Steve?” she asked, trying not to let her voice tremble.

Slowly, Steve opened the door. His bag was neatly packed at the foot of their bed and his eyes simmered with pain when he looked at her.

“Please don’t go.”

“Tasha,” Steve’s voice cracked. “I have to leave. We’ve talked and talked about the SHRA, and we’re not any closer to an agreement. How do we possibly move on from here?”

“Marry me.” The words tumbled out of Natasha’s mouth.

Steve starred. “What?”

“Marry me. I love you. I will always love you. I love you even when we disagree, even when we fight. I want you to know that.”

Steve’s face wobbled and his shoulders shook. Natasha realized that she had been right: she had been so wrapped up in debating an issue that she hadn’t made her feelings for him clear, and he had been thinking that she stopped loving him months ago. He couldn’t have been more wrong about that.

“And I love you too.” Steve rallied himself. “I have done since the day I met you. But I’m not going to change my mind about registration. How can we get married with that between us?”

Natasha let out a little laugh. “Getting married doesn’t mean we have to agree about everything. We can argue about registration for as long as we need to until we come to a solution, but I want you to know that I will love you through all of it.”

Natasha dug into her pocket and produced the ring she’d been working on for months. It was a narrow band of shiny red metal from the armor, with gold lining the edges. She hoped that wasn’t too much.

“Steven Rogers, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

Steve pulled her into his arms, holding her close and she let herself sag against his shoulders. “Yes. Yes. Of course I will, yes,” he breathed into her hair.

Natasha leaned back and dabbed at the corner of her eyes as Steve took the ring from her and slid it on to his finger. He stared down at it in wonder.

“We’re really getting married?” Steve asked, looking up like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“You bet we are,” Natasha said, feeling light headed with happiness. “But just so you know, there’s no way in hell that I’m wearing a wedding dress.”

Steve laughed. “I can’t exactly imagine you in white lace and high heels. Not really your look. And anyway, I always preferred you in armor.”

Natasha grinned. “Down the aisle in armor it is, then. Let’s see if the world is ready for the Stark-Rogers alliance.”

Steve took her hands in his and squeezed them. “We’re going to be great together, Tasha. The world won’t know what hit it.”


End file.
